


Power Surge

by Maï-Maktês (KikiMorah)



Series: The Power Series [2]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)
Genre: F/M, Powerplay, This is more ridic sex, it's the only thing I can write with those
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-20
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-16 23:20:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29583642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KikiMorah/pseuds/Ma%C3%AF-Makt%C3%AAs
Summary: The Slayer got her mojo back, yay! Now it’s Spike’s turn to be stuck between a rock and a hard place. Or, err, between the mattress and an electrified Slayer.Heads will roll!
Relationships: Spike/Buffy Summers
Series: The Power Series [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2003479
Comments: 6
Kudos: 21





	Power Surge

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DirtyAim](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DirtyAim/gifts).



> This picks up right after Power Struggle, but it can totes be read as stand-alone Pw/-more-or-less-P. ♥  
> What you need to know is: Buffy lost her powers for a while but they’re back. Oh, and she was having surprise-sex with Spike. (This came as a surprise to everyone, Spike included.)
> 
> Many thanks to my Smut Canaries, Sally and Fran. I’m sorry you had to see the shoddy beta version of this, but thanks to your kind words and your patience, this little Dampsquib has now evolved into a level 16 Smignite.
> 
> Also, all my thanks to Sally again for English-proofing this for me. *Glares at Grammarly  
> All remaining mistakes are mine, bc I’m a little twerp who keeps changing things right up to the last minute.
> 
> Soundtrack: Heads will roll, the Yeah Yeah Yeahs  
> Off, off, off with your head  
> Dance, dance, dance ’til you’re dead

  
♥ ⚡ ♥

  
  
  
  
  
Okay, so. Maybe having _more_ sex with Spike was not the Right Thing To Do, but sue her. Her powers rushing back in had been quite a shock, okay? Buffy had been caught between panic and delirium and she’d done the only thing she could, the only thing that made sense to her overstimulated body.

She’d chased the high.

Which led to her current, err, _prickly_ situation: sitting astride Spike, who was making googly eyes at her. Probably because she’d just used the words “dick puppet” to describe herself.

Ugh.  
  
Her whole body felt electric, energy coursing through her limbs and lighting up all her nerves. Exhaustion, what exhaustion? The Slayer strength was rolling down from her shoulders to the tips of her fingers, and boy was she ready to rumble.Spike tried to shift underneath her. Buffy pushed him down again none too gently. She felt him twitch inside her and she rolled her hips in answer. Pleasure blazed through her and she moaned.

The lust, the hunger, the euphoria of having her powers back were warring inside her, blanketing something deeper, darker. She’d played big huffy-puffy-Buffy in front of Spike seconds ago, but the truth was? Her cockiness —huh. Two near-penis jokes in a minute. This _so_ wasn't a good sign— was only skin deep.

Underneath? Muscles were coiled tight. Her stomach was roiling, she was choking on her own breath. Her heart hammered wildly in her chest and in her ears, deafening her.

Her powers were back and with them, her duty. Her responsibilities. She had… rules to follow. Buffy was the Slayer again, not just a girl free to get her brain boinked out by the first man offering. Or worse, by a vampire infamous for killing a couple of sister Slayers. Buffy gulped.

Yeah uh, she was officially the crappiest Slayer in History.

The weight of it all came rushing back in, heavy and crushing on her shoulders. She felt her spine lock and all her muscles stiffen. Everything was slipping away from her, control sliding like quicksand through her fingers, her body shaking with stress. Even her breathing was getting out of hand, she felt on the brink of suffocating. Part of her wanted to run away and to hide somewhere safe, like her mom’s bed.

The rest, the Slayer bits, wanted to beat Spike into submission and assert dominance. Show him who was on top, _literally_.

Right now, the Slayer had all the power. So, more wild sex it was.

She ground herself down against Spike before sliding up his thick dick, until its broad head was almost slipping out of her, parting her lips. Buffy had to close her eyes to stay focused.

Funny how when you shut one sense down, your brain immediately starts compensating with the others.

Underneath her hands, Spike’s skin was soft and cool. The edges of his pecs were fitting perfectly against the indent of her palms, filling the void deliciously. She could feel his nipples, hard and cool against her too-hot skin.

She could also _very much_ feel his dick, broad and insistent against her entrance.

Putting all her weight on her hands, she shimmied her pelvis a bit, seeking him, sliding his tip back slowly between her folds. Damn, that felt good.

Underneath her, Spike grunted and tried to slide further in without her permission. Buffy opened her eyes and growled. _Oh hell no_ , _buddy_.

She jerked her arm up to grab him by the jaw. She twisted his face up to force him to look at her.

“Don’t you move,” she hissed through clenched teeth.

♥ ⚡ ♥

Spike looked dazedly at the Slayer who was snarling like a fox, lips pulled back and teeth showing. Her grip was nearly breaking his jaw and his prick had slid a little bit more inside her as she moved, the head of his cock encased in her heat. It was taking him everything he had to not go cross-eyed with pleasure. The bitch had always had a mean streak in her and lookey… That followed in the bedroom too.

She was fucking perfect.

But with just that little display of violence, Spike was dangerously close to coming. What was it with the chit that turned him into a still-wet-behind-the-ears novice, ready to pop at the first squeeze of her cunt?

“You heard me, Spike?”

Bossy bint. He fucking loved every second of this.

Lying very still, staring straight into her blown pupils, Spike pushed his chin down incrementally in acknowledgment.

She let go of his jaw and he waggled it a bit, cautiously. Better check the hardware, the Slayer was wont to break things.

She settled her hands back on his chest, her little fingers closing like claws around his pecs as she slowly slid down along his cock. Spike didn’t even try to hold back a guttural moan. Hell, she could break his jaw if she wanted, as long as she kept her sopping cunt wrapped around his bird.

Her heat, her tightness, her—oh bollocks, her little tongue was poking out of her lips, her brows furrowed. Who knew shagging him silly would require so much focus? Blast, he wanted to kiss her. Without realizing, he’d let his mouth fall open and he couldn’t help the shallow pants that were coming out of him.

♥ ⚡ ♥

Spike was looking up at her with hooded eyes, lips glistening, and she moaned at the sight. She wanted to feel his tongue against her again. This could be okay, right? Was she allowed to want a kiss? To have one?

Maybe if she made sure he couldn’t move.

She grabbed both of Spike’s wrists and shoved his hands up behind his head, inching down toward him without letting go of her inner grip on his dick. She found the iron bars of her bedpost, and threading her fingers through Spike’s, she curled their joined hands over the ironworks.

As soon as his hands were secured, her mouth sought his. She dipped her tongue in his mouth and he answered immediately, opening his mouth incredibly wide and kissing her with all his might.

Buffy wasn’t sure she’d be able to go back to normal, meek smooching now that she’d tasted what it felt like to lock lips with Spike. Kissing felt organic, with him. As if they synched immediately. Every stroke of his tongue matched the rhythm of her pussy sliding up and down his dick.

Her fingers tightened around his as she bucked against him. He growled low in her mouth and for a split second she wanted to melt against him, to let him grab her and fold her against him again, as he did what he wanted to her eager body.

God, no, she couldn’t. She shouldn’t. She had to be the one to run the show here.

She let go of his mouth and rose to her elbows, sliding along his torso. Her hair fanned on either side of them, cocooning their faces. Spike was staring up at her, eyes glinting in the semi-darkness. The want, the need she saw burning in his smoldering gaze sent a thrill down her spine and she jerked harder against him, arching her back, thrusting her breasts in his face without thinking.

Eyes still riveted to Spike’s face, she saw his pupils expand and she felt his stomach muscles tighten against her clit.

Humming in pleasure, she pushed herself down against him, offering the tip of a breast to his lips. He didn’t lose a second, clamping his mouth around it and nudging the hardened point with the tip of his tongue. Buffy moaned with abandon, mouth open and breath hitching.

Spike’s fingers tightened against hers and he started stroking her thumb with his, slowly inching down to caress the sensitive skin of the inside of her wrist. Pleasure radiated from her arm and flowered in her chest, running straight to the breast he was licking. Buffy shuddered, desperately writhing against him, wanting to feel more.

Spike bent forward to have better access to her nipple and brought his knees up, forcing her crotch higher on his stomach. Another jolt of pleasure pierced through her, from her sex to her breasts to her brain. Oh, this felt good. So good. Surrendering would be so easy…

The pleasure suddenly receded, her nape growing cold with panic. No no _no_ , nuh-huh, she couldn’t let him take control.

She tore herself away from his mouth and sat up, letting go of his hands to push his thighs down none too gently.

Spike was looking at her, brows furrowed and lips still wet. God, Buffy could see the tip of his tongue behind his teeth.

Tearing herself out of the lust quagmire she’d nearly drowned in again, she grabbed his wrists and tugged his hands down to his sides, past their hips. Her grip was tighter this time, making sure his sneaky fingers couldn’t reach her skin. Leaning back slightly, she anchored herself on his wrists and his dick.

Yes. This was better. This way she was setting the pace and he couldn’t distract her.

She heaved herself up and slammed back down, grunting as she felt him thicken and harden inside her.

“Fuck, Slayer!”

She bit her lip and closed her eyes as she rode his dick, focusing on the feel of its blunt head sliding inside her, spreading her open.

He was filling her up so good, but her breasts were aching for his lips and her clit was desperate for more friction. In her mouth, her tongue felt restless. She bit down on it, half afraid that if she didn’t, she’d end up kissing him again. Kissing was too much like connecting. She needed to end this quick. Picking up the pace, she started riding him with renewed fury.

♥ ⚡ ♥

What in pluperfect hell was happening, here?

The Slayer was shagging him hard now, keening distressingly. Spike could see her clit, swollen and desperate, barely brushing the top of his wiry curls. What was she trying to achieve, here? Had she lost the plot or what?

Baring his teeth, he wrenched his left wrist out of her iron grip to bring his thumb to her engorged—

He’d barely brushed her clit when she clocked him on the jaw, neat and square. Enough to make him see stars.

“What the bleeding fuck?”

Spike shook his head to dispel the stupor and his temper flared.

Okay, sod it. Spike liked violence in bed as much as any other vamp, but this was getting daft. If the hellcat just wanted a tame pony to ride, she’d picked wrong.

Spike had tried to be the conciliatory bloke, here. She’d wanted to switch from fight to sex earlier? He’d obliged. And now he was down with going back to fighting if that’s what the mad wench wished. Whatever floated her sodding boat.

But she needed to make her damn mind, either shag him or sock him. This whole mindfuck was getting tiring. And if she wasn’t happy, she could go fuck herself on someone else’s cock for all he cared.

He was about to throw her off him when her lithe fingers circled his wrist and pried his hand away from her quim. He paused as he realized her fingers were shaking.

Her whole body was. And not just humming with power as before, no, this was tension, high-voltage coursing through her, wracking her body.

“Don’t.”

Even her voice was shaky.

What the hell? Spike blinked blearily, trying to get some shackles on his anger. He needed to think.

He looked up at the Slayer, eyes questioning, but she was avoiding his gaze. Her lids were lowered, lashes fluttering against her cheeks. He could hear her heart, drumming wildly.

This wasn’t about using him, Spike realized with a shock. None of this was about him. This was about her and control.

Pleasure slammed back into him. _Of fuck_.

She was using sex to exert dominance. To make up for her earlier helplessness, Spike guessed. And judging from her panic, it probably wasn’t a conscious move. She didn’t understand yet that surrender didn’t equate to powerlessness.

Oh hell, oh fuck. Sure, Spike had always been fascinated by the subtle mechanics of powerplay in bed but watching _this_ Slayer figure it all out made him extra weak in the knees. He got to watch her learn to tame her body. Hell, he could _show_ her, if she let him.

Damn if he hadn’t been ready to walk away a minute ago, but now his cock was hard as nails again.

“Slayer,” he rasped to get her attention. Her eyes jumped to his and she blinked rapidly. She was skittish as a colt. Some of William’s ponceyness bubbled to the surface and he found himself making soothing sounds.

“It’s OK love, I won’t push you. You’re the one in charge.”

The Slayer nodded and the shuddering abated a bit. She was eyeing him like a hawk but Spike didn’t move, he didn’t even breathe.

Something shifted, the air around them felt less oppressive.

He watched her melt slowly, tension leaching out of her body as she started gyrating over him experimentally. Her cunt and her fingers tightened, securing her grip on him, and she moaned.

Yeah, alright, Spike would ponder over the mysteries of Slayer psyche later. Right now, being balls deep into this one while she barked down orders at him was enough.

More than enough. This was the stuff of fantasies he’d never dared dream about, even in his filthiest wanks. Oh yeah, bloody Valkyrie she was, with her golden hair flouncing and her tits bouncing and—

And Spike was getting dangerously close to coming. Bollocks. In her panic, she wasn’t letting him pace himself. He needed to do something, posthaste.

“Slayer,” he hissed in warning. “If you keep this up, I won’t last long.”

She slammed one of her hands on his chest again, driving him down in the mattress.

“No!”

The edges of her voice were rough from panic and need.

♥ ⚡ ♥

Spike was looking at her with wide eyes, panting wildly.

“Slayer,” he moaned, twisting under her. “You’ll be the death of me.”

“Already dead,” she grunted back through clenched teeth. “And hold it!”

She dug her nails deeper in his chest and wrist for good measure. His eyes rolled back in his orbits, nearly all-white, white as the curls tumbling over his brow. How could a vampire be so pretty?

Spike shook himself, blinking furiously at her.

“I’m trying to, you fucking harpy!”

She elected to ignore him, trying to focus on her pleasure. She was so, so close, damn it. If only he stayed still for a minute, she could make it. She was sure of it.

Ugh, why it was so hard to reach orgasm now? She felt back at square one, like tonight in the shower when she’d tried _so hard,_ but nothing had worked. What if her earlier orgasms had been a fluke and she couldn’t come again? As she kept her frantic riding, her eyes started to prickle with tears, rendering her vision blurry. Please, please, _please_ , let her come. She needed to know nothing was wrong with her that she could come when she had her powers, too.

She heard Spike growl and before she could react, he bucked sharply, nearly unseating her. He used that split second to sneak his free hand between their bodies, close to her sex again. Buffy’s throat constricted.

Liar, he was such a _liar_. He’d told her he wouldn’t push her but he’d lied, they all lied.

She couldn’t trust anybody.

“Slayer.”

The panic was mounting again, choking her.

“Buffy! Breathe. I’m not trying to touch you.”

She could feel his fingers twitch underneath her as he squeezed his dick, his thumb and index circling the base. Buffy blinked her tears away and looked at the vampire. Spike rolled his eyes briefly, in annoyance this time, and he clenched his jaw. She could see the muscles tightening in his cheeks.

“I just need to slow my goddam cock down, okay?”

She watched him suspiciously as he freed his other wrist from her numb fingers, sliding his hand up toward her bedpost again. He clamped his fingers around a wide iron bar, the tendons straining in his arm.

Buffy felt her legs start to shake again but she couldn’t take her eyes off Spike. She saw his brows soften.

“You’re still the one calling the shots here, kitten.”

Wary, she shifted over him. She put her trembling hands back on his chest, trying to find a balance. It was different, with his fingers under her.

Different, but not bad. She ground herself cautiously against his hand and she heard him stifle a moan. His fingers flexed underneath her, but he kept his promise, he didn’t try to caress her.

“Okay,” she mumbled, her voice strained.

After some tentative rocking and swishing, she started picking up the pace again. It was a lot less desperate. And now, even though he wasn’t trying to touch her, her clit brushed against his knuckles, giving her just a little bit more friction every time she slid down his dick. She could feel the pleasure flood back inside her, heating her whole chest along her spine.

“That’s it, Slayer,” Spike encouraged her in a raspy voice that did funny things to her stomach. “Ride away.”

♥ ⚡ ♥

“Oh bloody hell, oh shit, oh _yes_!”

Spike was babbling but who gave a fuck at this point, he needed her like he hadn’t needed anything in a goddam century. She’d been riding him for a while now, but there was no smell of tears in the air anymore, only the heavy, heady perfume of her arousal, growing thicker by the second, and the sweet ambrosia of her sweat, pooling between her breasts, a single bead running down to disappear in her navel. God, Spike wanted to put his tongue in there.

There was a whistling sound coming through her clenched teeth and when Spike realized it was his name, uttered low and repeatedly, he had to squeeze his prick so hard he was half-afraid it’d pop off. In his other hand, the bedpost groaned under the pressure.

“Slayer, you’re a goddam wonder,” he choked, urging her to ride his cock harder with subtle flex of his abs. He didn’t dare do more, the dread of sidetracking her or coming too fast split fifty-fifty, evenly, heavenly. Every time she impaled herself on him, he saw stars.

She was getting wound up tighter and tighter, ramrod straight over him, riding his cock and his knuckles alike, drenching him. Hell’s bloody bells, were vampires allowed to pray? ‘Cause he sure was ready to worship the first deity that would grant him the strength to get through this without spluttering his load in her before she was finished.

“Jesus, Mary, mother of fuck, you’re killing me here Slayer,” he panted, eyes riveted to her bouncing tits. “I’m going to shag you through the mattress as soon as you let—”

She knocked the breath out of him when she slammed down with all her considerable strength, fingers clawing at his chest and howling.

Open Sesame, he’d spoken the fucking magic word or done something right, the girl was finally reaching her acme. She’d been in the middle of mouthing his name when the bliss took her and now she was stuck halfway through, mouth open, choking, adding a slew of diphthongs to his name.

His prayers had come through, then. Time to get on his knees and worship.

With a roar, he let go of his cock and the bedpost to grab her by the shoulders, flipping them over, her back to the mattress, plowing into her like a brute.

She was still coming underneath him, each violent ram of his cock in her kicking her voice up a notch until it was shrill in his ears. He’d vamped out and his mouth was clamped on the side of her throat, the flat of his tongue bathing her pulse point. The Slayer was convulsing around his prick, her orgasm doubling down. Her taste was in his mouth, her scent in his nose. Her skin, soft under his hands, her cries music to his ears and the picture of her face seared into his brain.

He could feel her pulse reverberating against the point of his fangs, sending electric shocks straight to his cock. Spike steeled his jaw wide open, trying desperately not to break the skin as Buffy howled and bucked underneath him, quaking with pleasure. She arched off the mattress as he rammed into her and the slight change of angle, the feeling of her tits pressed to his naked chest, pointy nipples digging into his skin catapulted him over the edge. All his senses were filled with her, filled to the brim, overflowing into orgasm.

Spike came in long spurts, ecstasy blooming in Technicolor behind his eyelids. He kept coming for a long time, still hard, hips still pumping and crushing her under him, digging his fingers in her golden tresses and pulling, but the Slayer didn’t seem to care. She was still tangled in her own aftershocks.

♥ ⚡ ♥

Slowly, the haze receded. Buffy tried to get her breathing in check, failing dramatically

Well, he’d warned her.

 _I’m going to shag you through the mattress_ —

And woowie, hadn’t he. He’d also flipped them around. Funny, the ceiling looked different, seen from the end of her bed.

— a _s soon as you let me._

Hm. She suspected that's what had made her come, _finally_. The admission that he was waiting for her order, that he wouldn’t do anything before she let him. That she could trust him, at least in bed.

And once her orgasm had started hitting, him manhandling and roughing her up, pulling her hair and nearly biting her, had only magnified everything. Like it had been okay to surrender once she’d proven a point to herself.  
  
A last afteshock of pleasure surged in her, making her shudder from head to toe. Ugh. She was _such_ a slutburger.

Spike’s body, still tense over her, slackened a bit. She felt his fangs withdraw and heard the crunch of cartilage as he slipped back into his human face. With a grunt, he heaved himself off her and flopped to the side, rolling on his back. But he stayed close, his fingers still weaved in her hair. His panting breath tickling her ear.

The side of her neck was damp, the night air felt pleasantly cool against her skin.

Buffy blinked. Now that her brain was back in command, it had _questions_. Like, _‘Now what?’_ or ‘ _Why aren’t you running to grab a stake yet?’_

The jury was still out on this last one, to be frank. What was the proper etiquette on staking evil but stupidly courteous vamps you just had hot monkey sex with? Also, the defense attorney had objected with _‘Legs are out of commission anyway’_ , which…fair enough.

Yeah, Buffy should probably stop watching Judge Judy. Ugh, summer TV reruns were the pits.

“Huh…” she ventured right at the same time Spike, the vampire in her bed, cleared his throat.

They both stopped dead in their tracks, eyeing each other warily.

In the bedroom, the fallout silence was deafening.  
  
  
  
  


♥ ⚡ ♥

**Author's Note:**

> Next up: Power Down.  
> The R’gondin is back. Kinda.  
> *evil chittering


End file.
